


Never Fallen From Quite This High

by cinnamontoastandtears



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, George schemes, John daydreams, Light Angst, M/M, Meddling, Misunderstandings, Paul pretends to be oblivious, Ringo is embarrassed that he's embarrassed, Valentine's Day, a bit of smoking, only a little, they all live together, they're all slightly out of character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29434869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamontoastandtears/pseuds/cinnamontoastandtears
Summary: George wants Ringo to like him.He also wants John and Paul to stop dancing around each other.orFive times George and Ringo got caught on each other, and the one time they finally stuck together.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	Never Fallen From Quite This High

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day everyone!
> 
> i got the idea for this fic while scrolling through some prompts, and the one that jumped out at me was the dialogue prompt, "shut up and kiss me".
> 
> i was also listening to Fallingforyou by the 1975, which contributed to the plot of this story in full. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy this, and i'm so sorry if there are any mistakes still in there because i've read this four or five times and i'm not even sure anymore.
> 
> (title stolen from ocean eyes by Billie Eilish, which also had a minor impact on this story)

The first time it happened it was definitely an accident. It was just… Ringo had this pen clipped in his shirt pocket, and it wasn’t like it was  _ totally _ George’s fault that he had dropped his phone  _ right _ where Ringo was standing. John had been daydreaming, and George didn’t see his leg sprawled out on the ground, which meant he stumbled on John’s leg and dropped his phone. 

“Christ, Lennon! You better hope it’s not cracked,” George said, but John still wasn’t paying attention. 

As George bent down to pick up his (thankfully) un-cracked phone, he stood up too quickly and his hair got caught on the clip of Ringo’s pen. 

“Fuck!” George cried, the pain shooting through his scalp. 

Ringo, who had just realized what was happening, quickly tried to detangle the pen from George’s hair, short fingers fumbling in the fine strands. 

He managed to get the pen out of his pocket first, and then, as George stood to his full height, reached up to thread the hair out of the clip. 

“It’s alright Ringo, I can get it,” George said, pulling the pen easily from his hair and handing it back to Ringo. 

“Sorry, George,” Ringo said, quietly, looking down all embarrassed. And hell if George didn’t want to bend down and kiss him right there, right now. 

But he didn’t. He just said, “It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize. It really should be this nitwit over here,” and kicked John in the shin. 

“Hey!” John yelled, finally snapping out of his daze, “What in the name of Christ was that for?” 

“For lying about like a bloody fool and making me trip,” George replied hotly. 

“What was it you were thinking about so intensely, anyway?” Ringo asked, sitting down on the floor of the living room.

“Probably Paul,” George teased, nudging Ringo as he sat down next to the drummer. 

Ringo snickered and John made a face. 

“What about me?” Paul asked, coming in from the kitchen where he had been making tea. 

“Nothing,” John mumbled, “just… No it’s nothing.” 

Ringo and George shared a knowing glance. 

Paul just smiled and said, “Alright then. Well the tea’s all done, I can bring it in and we can get back to the song ideas-”

“No,” Ringo moaned, “Can’t we stop that for now and just watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah,” George agreed, “I want to watch  _ School of Rock _ again.”

“No,” John said, “We watched that so many times already, let’s watch  _ Mean Girls _ this time.”

And so the first incident ended with Paul retreating to the kitchen to fetch the teas, and Ringo accompanying him after George and John started to fight about whether Dewey Finn or Mrs. Norbury was a better teacher. 

But this was just the beginning. 

⟶♡⟵

The second time was also an accident. 

George was wearing a pair of pajamas that had been his father’s in the 70s or something, and while wildly out-of-date, they were pretty comfortable. With a blue-and-white striped pattern and a short row of buttons at the ends of the sleeves, George thought the only other thing he might need to complete the look would be a cigar and a newspaper. 

He strode to the bathroom that he and Ringo shared, and saw that Ringo was already in there, brushing his teeth. He entered and picked up his own toothbrush, and started to brush his teeth as well. Looking over at Ringo, he noticed there was a small piece of popcorn stuck in his hair, from the popcorn fight they had gotten into while watching  _ Mean Girls _ . (Paul came up with the brilliant solution that they should just watch both of the movies, and that may or may not have led to another argument about which one they should watch first). 

“Here, Rings, you got something in your hair,” George said, “I can- oh, bugger.”

One of those unnecessary buttons had gotten caught in a small tangle in Ringo’s hair, and it was immediately a parallel of earlier in the living room. 

“Ow- fuck!” Ringo said, wincing, the toothbrush falling out of his mouth and onto the floor. 

“It’s- I’m trying to get the thing- come a bit closer, it’ll be easier to get it that way,” George said, stepping towards the shorter man, and setting his own toothbrush down on the counter. Now Ringo’s face was pressed into George’s chest, and shit, George couldn’t help but wish that getting to hold Ringo wasn’t just something that happened on accident. 

He tentatively moved his hand away from Ringo’s head, and found that the hair had come un-looped from the button as they had moved together. 

“I’m sorry, Ringo,” George apologized quickly. 

“It’s fine,” Ringo smiled, a light blush dusting his cheeks, “No worries.”

“Alright, well, I-” George didn’t know what he was saying. He was struck by the cute way Ringo got embarrassed by being so close to him, and all the thoughts had left his head. So instead of saying anything else, he just just picked up his toothbrush again and faced the mirror. He saw Ringo pick up his own toothbrush and do the same.

When George had finished he wished Ringo a quiet goodnight, and headed to his own room down the hall. 

The thoughts of Ringo’s cute blush followed him to bed, and he could barely fall asleep. He needed a way to get Ringo to like him back. And a way that would work, too, because simply sitting around dreaming about how it would be, like John did about Paul, only led to friends tripping over your legs. 

So he had to think of something else. Something better. Something- well, yes, maybe that would work. And, if he played it the right way, maybe he could even prevent John from being a tripping hazard at the same time. 

With that thought, George fell asleep, confident in his newly devised plan. 

⟶♡⟵

It should be known that even if the third time was  _ supposed _ to be on purpose, it still turned out to be an accident. 

The side line of George’s plan was to get John and Paul together, and since he was confident enough in his skills to hook the drummer, getting them to date had to be acted on first. 

This was the part he was allowed to tell Ringo, because while George’s game was strong, John and Paul were awkward as  _ hell _ , so he needed help. Ringo agreed easily to what George had in mind, as he too, had grown tired of John’s mooniness and Paul’s feigned obliviousness. 

The first step was to convince both John and Paul that the other wanted to date them. 

Which proved harder than initially thought, at least on George’s part. 

“Oh come on, John, even if he doesn’t, you’ll never know if you don’t ask,” George pestered. 

John sat up from where he had been lying on his bed and said, “Why risk it? I don’t want to destroy the dynamic of the group if he doesn’t like me back! Why do you even care about any of this?” He sighed, then flopped back onto his pillows, bringing one up to smoosh into his face. 

“Is it too much to say I just want to help out a friend?” George asked, laughing at the other guitarist’s dramatics. 

John lifted the pillow of his face and looked at George. “Whoever said we were friends?” he questioned, a look of mock confusion on his face. 

“Oi!,” George said, and hit John over the head with another pillow. 

“What if I-” he said through a laugh, “What if I told you that I  _ knew _ , for a fact, that Paul wanted you to ask him out? Would you then?”

“I…” John said, defeated. “Yes, I guess so… but you  _ do know _ that don’t you? This isn’t some wildly elaborate prank? Because I swear to  _ God _ , if it is Harrison-”

“I promise. I swear on all of Ringo’s rings.”

“Alright then,” John said primly, “I guess a certain bassist is getting asked out on a date then.”

◌◌◌

As George left John’s room, he texted Ringo. 

so ??

So what?

jeez

does paul like john or not ??

because i swear to god if he doesn’t

john is going to kill me

and i’m irreplaceable !!

Calm down

Paul does like him

oh thank all that is holy

ok

OK

Now what?

well i guess we just have to wait for john to make his move

and then i can

..

What?

nothing

thanks for your help rings

No problem :)

◌◌◌

John asked Paul out the next day. Sort of. 

It was, in fact, quite awkward. 

It was at breakfast, and they were all in the kitchen as Ringo sleepily started the coffee pot and George cooked eggs at the stove. 

“What did you say?” Paul asked John.

“I said, erhm…” he turned away, and coughed into his shirt, “I said… should we all go to dinner?”

George’s eyes flared. John looked at him and quickly turned away, knowing he couldn’t fight the fire burning there. 

“Oh!” Paul said, looking slightly embarrassed, clearly thinking the question had been something else, “I guess, yes, that would be nice. Tomorrow then?”

“Uh, sure,” John said, fork scraping the plate of eggs George had set in front of him.

“Great,” George mumbled, kicking John under the table as he sat down to his own plate. 

“That wasn’t how it was supposed to go, was it?” Ringo whispered in George’s ear as he set down two empty mugs on the table.

“No,” George said, grinding his teeth.    
  


He may not have liked it very much, but this did give George the perfect opportunity to work on the more private side of his plan. 

◌◌◌

The next night, as they were all getting ready to go to dinner, George purposefully left one of the buttons of the sleeve of his suit unbuttoned, creating the perfect place for something to catch. 

“Ready?” Paul asked, ducking into the bathroom.

“Er-yeah,” George said. 

“Alright, the others are waiting.”

George shot him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be right there.”

As they all stood in the elevator, waiting for it to reach the ground, the tension could have been cut with a knife. 

George started humming a song they had been talking about, and John told him to shut it.

“Did you call the car?” Paul asked John quietly.

“Uh, yeah,” John said, checking his phone for the time, and then checking it again. “It should be waiting now.”

They rode the rest of the way down in complete silence, which was somehow worse than the humming, and made it out to the car without any difficulty. 

When seated in the car, George sat next to Ringo on the far side of the door, and John and Paul sat in the back. George put his arm behind Ringo’s head, and then he realized his mistake. 

The sleeve which was unbuttoned was his  _ other _ arm, so it didn’t matter that he had done the rest of it the right way. Ringo, who had no idea something had gone amiss, leaned back into George’s arm, and, well, George couldn’t just reach over and unbutton the other sleeve now. He wasn’t sure he wanted to either, with Ringo sitting there all comfortable and cute. 

So much for the next part of his plan. 

When the car finally got to the restaurant, some fancy Indian place John had let Paul pick, Ringo was the last to get out of the car. 

George reached in and grabbed his hand, pulling him out into the cold air of the February night. 

“Thanks, Geo,” Ringo said, letting go of George’s hand. 

Except, what do you know? One of Ringo’s shiny cufflinks he liked to wear had gotten stuck inside the loop of George’s unbuttoned sleeve, and they clung together at their wrists. 

“Bloody hell, why does this keep happening?” Ringo asked in a frustrated tone, easily slipping his cufflink out of George’s sleeve. 

“I don’t know,” George said, blushing, this unplanned circumstance actually embarrassing him. “Maybe it’s like the universe saying we’re stuck together or something.”

“Maybe,” Ringo muttered, following John and Paul into the restaurant. 

⟶♡⟵

The fourth time it happened, it was decidedly on purpose. 

For once.

It was the next night now, and awkwardness hung in the air of the house.

Paul and John weren’t talking all that much at the moment, and every time they passed each other in the house, they turned in the opposite direction. 

It was driving George mad. 

He had tried to talk to John earlier that afternoon, but John probably had his headphones in or something because George got no reply. 

It wasn’t until later, when Ringo suggested that they have another movie night that John finally emerged from his room.

“Come on, John, the new  _ To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before _ movie is out today, don’t you want to come watch it with us?”

George heard shuffling from the other side of the door, and the doorknob turned as John opened it. 

“Fine,” John agreed. 

“Great!” George said. Finally,  _ finally _ , he might be able to move forward with his plans. 

◌◌◌

There wasn’t any popcorn tonight, but Ringo brought out a bag of chips from the kitchen and Paul took out the guacamole from the fridge. 

They split the chips into two bowls, and George immediately claimed one for him and Ringo to share. 

That left Paul and John to awkwardly share the other, and George smirked into the darkness as the Netflix logo danced across the screen. 

The movie was good, if not also just terribly cheesy, but the boys couldn’t help it if they were all secretly (or maybe not so secretly) hopeless romantics who  _ lived _ for this shit. 

Halfway through, Paul and John’s hands met in their bowl for the fifth or sixth time that night, and John pretty much lost his shit. 

In a good way.

So while Ringo and George politely turned towards the montage of Lara Jean and Christine in New York, John leaned over and sealed his lips over Paul’s. 

This surprised the bassist, and he dropped the bowl that he was still holding, but it honestly didn’t even matter anymore. He closed his eyes and put his arms around John’s neck, and it probably would have gone further than that, but George coughed and the two broke apart awkwardly. 

“Well,” Ringo said.

“Well,” said Paul. And he cuddled into John’s side for the rest of the movie. 

When it was over, Paul and John went off to bed, but George wasn’t tired yet.

“Do you want to stay up and watch  _ Captain America: Winter Soldier _ with me?” he asked Ringo. 

“Sure,” he said, “Just let me get another seltzer from the kitchen first.”

“I want a lemon one,” George called after Ringo, as he switched the TV from Netflix to Disney+.

Now, halfway into  _ this _ movie, George was able to put into motion the next part of his plan. 

“Hey, Ritchie,” he said. 

“Hmm,” Ringo mumbled. 

“I think I have something in the back of my hair, can you check?”

“Sure,” Ringo said, reaching a hand into the back of George’s hair. 

This was where George had heftily applied about half a can of hairspray to make it the perfect trap for a certain drummer’s unsuspecting hand. 

And so it was that when Ringo put his hand into George’s hair, one of his rings got caught in the awful matted mess that George had made. 

“Bloody fuck,” George cursed. While it may have been happening just like he wanted it to, that didn’t mean it hurt any less. 

“What did you put in your hair?” Ringo asked, shaking his fingers in the crisp strands. 

“I- shit, I was trying something out,” George said, wincing, “I guess I shouldn’t keep doing it.”

“No,” Ringo said, finally freeing his hand from George’s hair. “No, you shouldn’t.”

“Alright then,” George said, and realized that Ringo was yawning. 

“You can go to bed, you know, you don’t have to stay with me if you’re too tired.”

“It’s alright, I want to stay,” Ringo said, “but can I use you as a pillow?” 

“Sure,” George smiled down at the older man, “no problem.”

So George’s second, but first fully successful part of his plan went off without a hitch, and now he got to sleep with Ringo on the couch. 

What could possibly go wrong?

⟶♡⟵

The fifth time was also on purpose, but the reaction was thoroughly unintended. 

John and Paul had infested the house with their honeymoon phase antics, (which George had in fact, intended), so he suggested to Ringo that they leave the apartment for a while and go on a walk or something. 

“Sure,” Ringo said, “let me just get a sweater, it’s not as cold out today.”

It was almost too easy. 

George grabbed his keys from by the door, and followed Ringo outside, not bothering to say goodbye to John and Paul who were acting like they were the only two people in the entire world at the moment. 

“To the park, then?” Ringo asked.

“Yeah,” George agreed. But truly, he would go anywhere Ringo wanted to go.  _ Lord _ , would he go anywhere. 

Outside, they were greeted with the sharp chill of the February wind, melting snow decorating the sidewalk and bushes in people’s small front yards. 

George followed Ringo down to the end of the block, where they crossed the street and went into the closest entrance of the local park.

More snow had gathered here on the benches and stone statues, but most of the paths were still clear. Ringo walked in front of George and spun around with his arms held out. The snow from a branch overhead shook with a sudden gust of wind, and it sprinkled the two in the fluffy white powder. 

George couldn’t help but grin at the dancing man in front of him, and took out his phone to take a picture. 

Ringo spun around, embarrassed at realizing that George was watching him so closely, and walked farther down the path. George followed closely behind, and the two laughed at the freedom that being outside gave them. 

They walked through the park slowly, taking more pictures of each other, dragging out their time so they wouldn’t have to go back to the Lover’s Nest so soon. 

But soon it started to get late and the temperature dropped, making them shiver. 

“Let’s get back,” George said, “Wouldn’t want either of us to freeze out here or something.”

“Right,” Ringo said, his teeth chattering almost violently now.

“Shit, you’re cold,” George said, “I don’t have a jacket I can give you, but- here,” and he wrapped his arm around Ringo’s shoulders.

“T-Thanks,” Ringo said, a warm flush flooding his freezing face. 

George just smiled down at his friend as they left the park and headed back to their apartment. 

When they reached the door, George reached into his pocket with the arm still wrapped around Ringo, and pulled them out to unlock the door. 

And there it was, the next step in George’s plan. 

The jagged edge of a bottle opener on George’s keychain caught on a string of Ringo’s sweater, and his arm stuck to the shorter man’s front. 

“Oh,” George said, “sorry I can just-” 

“Why do you keep doing this?” Ringo asked, a look of hurt and confusion contorting his face. 

“What?” George asked. 

“Is it funny to you how embarrassed I get when we get stuck together? Why do you keep trying to get stuck to me? What joke are you playing at?”

“I-” George said. This was not what he had expected at all. “There’s no joke, Ringo, I just-”

“No,” Ringo said, “I don’t even care.” He ripped the keys out of George’s hand, snapping the string from his sweater, and forced the door open quickly. He tossed the keys down as he stepped inside, then stomped up to his bedroom and slammed the door. 

George didn’t understand. But… now thinking about it, maybe Ringo would get embarrassed by how much he reacted when so close to George.  _ Well fuck _ , he thought. 

He marched into the kitchen and fished the ice cream out of the freezer, not even bothering to get a bowl. 

“Hey!” John yelled, “What did you do to Ringo?” 

“I do  _ not _ want to talk about it,” George said, and went sadly off to his own room. 

He had failed. He hadn’t made Ringo like him at all. In fact, it was just the opposite. 

So for the rest of the day, he ate the rest of the container of coffee chip ice cream and watched  _ Ella Enchanted _ on his laptop. 

That was how George’s day-before-Valentine’s-day ended. 

But you know, that’s not how the whole story ends.

Of course. 

⟶♡⟵

The next morning, George woke up to the smell of something burning. 

He stumbled out of his room still dressed in his clothes from the day before, and went down to the kitchen to see what was happening. 

Paul looked disheveled as John hurried to turn off the burner on the stove. 

“What the hell are you  _ doing _ , Lennon?” George asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes. 

“He was trying to be romantic,” Paul winced, “but I think he should have learned how to actually cook before he tried to make something as complicated as waffles.”

John shot Paul a look, and Paul smiled at the guitarist, “I appreciate the gesture, though, love,” Paul said, and John softened. 

“Well,” George said, “I do not. Let me fix whatever horrendous thing you’ve done here.”

John sat down at the table next to Paul, as George took over the operation John had started. 

Ringo came down about fifteen minutes later, fully dressed for the day. 

“Hi,” George said, as he put three waffles on a plate. 

Ringo just looked briefly up at George before going into the entrance hall. 

“I’m going out for a cig,” he said, grabbing his coat off it’s hook. 

“Before breakfast?” John called, “Those things’ll get you killed!” But Ringo wasn’t paying attention.

“You better go after him, mate,” Paul told George, after taking a bite of a waffle. “God, Geo, these are amazing.” He turned to John. “I might have to leave you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” John smirked, and he leaned in to kiss Paul. 

“God,” George said under his breath, “I do have to go, don’t I?”

Paul turned his head and hummed his agreement, and George really couldn’t stand the two lovebirds anymore anyways, so he got his own coat from the hall and went out to the stoop where Ringo sat, smoking a cigarette. 

“Uhm, hi,” George said, sitting down next to Ringo. 

“Mm,” was all the noise Ringo made. 

“Look, Ritchie, can I just explain before everything gets all fucked up? Please?” George pleaded. 

Ringo finally turned towards George, and he swore he fell in love all over again.    
  


The smoke from the end of Ringo’s cigarette danced in front of his eyes, making the icy blue seem darker and more mysterious. 

“I-” George said, standing in the awkwardness of the situation. 

“I just… thought that maybe if you kept being close to me, you might… God I was so stupid.”

Ringo stood too, grinding the butt of his cigarette into the concrete steps with his heel. 

“Just tell me, George,” he said, spinning George around to face him. “Just tell me.”

And there it was. 

Out of all the accidents and accidents planned, this was the time George and Ringo got caught together and finally stuck. 

A loose string on George’s coat looped around one of the buttons of Ringo’s, bringing them closer than any of the other times. 

George’s eyes widened. “I swear, Ringo, I didn’t do this on purpose this time. It was only the other day with the hairspray and yesterday with the keychain. I tried to make it happen in the car to the restaurant too, but I couldn’t… wrong sleeve. God, Ringo, all I wanted was you to like me. Like me like I like you, and I’m sorry that I fucked it all up, we can just pretend this nev-”

“Kiss me,” Ringo said. 

“-er happen- What?” George said, certain he heard Ringo wrong. 

“Ringo rolled those blue eyes of his and said again, slightly less confident, “Just shut up and kiss me.”

And that was all George needed to hear. He put his free hand around Ringo’s waist and leaned down to kiss him. 

Ringo reached up and looped his hands around George’s neck after unlooping George’s coat from his. 

George let his other hand snake under Ringo’s arm, and up his back into the back of his head. 

Ringo sighed, and George’s tongue darted into Ringo’s mouth. 

The drummer leaned into the kiss even further, and George smiled against Ringo’s lips. 

He broke it off, and stared down at Ringo. “I thought you… I thought you hated me?” he said, uncharacteristically nervous. 

“I… thought that you were teasing me,” Ringo admitted, blushing. “Because I kept getting so embarrassed when we got caught on each other.”

“Oh, Ringo,” George said, leaning down to kiss him again. Ringo tasted like smoke and tea and oranges and George just couldn’t get enough. 

When they had broken apart for the second time, they realized it had started to snow. 

“We better get inside before we freeze again,” George said.

“Yeah,” Ringo agreed, “But even if we did, I have you to warm me up now.”

George grinned toothily, and they went back inside the house. 

In the kitchen, John and Paul were still sitting close and eating the waffles George had made. 

“Has paradise been restored?” John asked, smirking at the two.

“Something like that,” George said, pecking Ringo lightly on the mouth.

“Now,” he said, “who wants more waffles?”

The other three all raised their hands. 

**Author's Note:**

> and that's the end! i hope y'all liked it, and drop some kudos or let me know what you thought. <3


End file.
